Accidentally Bound To The Alpha's Rebel Daughter

Accidentally Bound To The Alpha's Rebel Daughter

thegigigreytheory · Ongoing · 30.9k Words

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Introduction

Skylar Richardson has two rules: don't get caught, and don't let anyone tell her what to do.

By night, she runs with a skater gang, ruling the city's streets with her crew. By day, she's the alpha's daughter—heir to a pack she wants nothing to do with, trapped in a life that feels like a cage.

When Micah Quinn transfers to her school, quiet and unassuming with a camera always around his neck, Skylar sees easy prey. The perfect target to remind everyone who runs this territory.

But Micah isn't afraid of her. He doesn't flinch when her crew corners him. He doesn't beg when one of her gang shoves him. And when he calls the police instead of backing down, Skylar's perfectly hidden double life starts to unravel.

She runs. A car hits her. She wakes up in the hospital—face to face with the boy she tried to bully.

The twist? His mother is the woman her father is planning to marry. Now Micah and his mother are moving into the pack mansion to plan the wedding.

Trapped under the same roof, Skylar and Micah form an uneasy alliance: she'll help him stop the wedding if he keeps her skater identity a secret. But forced proximity is a dangerous game—and somewhere between late-night negotiations and shared secrets, enemies start to feel like something else entirely.

She wanted to destroy him. Now she needs him to survive.

And he's the only one who can keep her from destroying herself.

Chapter 1

Skylar's Pov

"Don't be such a fucking tease, Skylar." He grunts, pulling away from me as my hips hit the sink with a dull thud that vibrates through my lower back. The cold porcelain bites into my skin through the thin fabric of my dress, sending a shiver up my spine that has nothing to do with the temperature in this bathroom.

He doesn't let go, we keep heaving, our chests rising and falling in uneven rhythm, our breaths mixing up with his hands gripping my thighs so tight I know there'll be bruises there tomorrow, purple and blue fingerprints that'll remind me of this moment every time I look down.

My dress rides up, the fabric going uptight around my ribs as I can barely breathe, the air in this bathroom thick and suffocating like we've used it all up, like there's nothing left but the heat radiating off our bodies and the tension crackling between us.

My hands don't leave his neck, my fingers curling into the short hair at his nape, my lips desperately finding his in a shaky kiss that tastes like desperation.

He kisses me back softly at first, his mouth warm and familiar against mine, but then he pulls away, his forehead resting against mine, his breath fanning across my cheeks in short, controlled bursts that tell me he's trying to keep himself together just as much as I am.

"Don't leave me.. don't leave me, please." I mutter against his mouth, the words slipping out before I can stop them, before I can cage them back behind my teeth where they belong. The neediness in my voice shocks me, but I don't care.

I don't care about dignity or pride or any of that bullshit. I didn't fly all the way across the country to his hotel room,, just to leave empty handed. To leave with the same news that broke me, the same rejection that's been festering in my chest for weeks.

My guts twist as he freezes, his whole body going rigid against mine, the sudden coldness spreading through his touch was enough answer.

Enough to tell me everything I needed to know before he even opens his mouth. But he avoids my gaze anyway, his eyes darting somewhere over my shoulder, anywhere but my face, anywhere but the tears he knows are building in my eyes.

"We should get some sleep, I've got a plane to catch tomorrow."

"Micah." I whisper shakily.

He inhales sharply, a long drag of air that fills his lungs and seems to steel him for what's coming, then takes his hands off my hips, the absence of his warmth making me feel hollow and cold, like someone turned off the heat and left me standing in the dark. "We can't keep doing this, Skylar. I'm really sorry, I promised my mom and..."

"What do you want then?" I cut him off, "I don't give a fuck about her or my dad, I don't care what promises you made, I don't care about any of it. Just tell me what you want, Micah.

"It's complicated, Skylar." His jaw tightens, the way he's struggling to hold himself together, the way his hands are clenched at his sides like he's fighting every instinct to reach for me again. "You're my stepsister, now."

"It doesn't matter." I gasp, and when he parts his lips to speak, to say something that I know will break me completely, the bathroom door flies open with a violent crash against the wall, causing my heart to leap up into my throat, pounding so hard I can feel it in my ears, a loud thumping that drowns out everything else.

We're done for. This is it. This is how it all falls apart.


4 MONTHS EARLIER.

"May the heir live long." Dante teases, his voice dripping with sarcasm, as I bring my board to a halt, the wheels scraping against the rough concrete. I roll my eyes hard enough to strain something as I grab a beer from Fatima.

"The weather's super shitty today." I hiss, pressing the beer can and taking a long gulp before tossing it aside.

The can clatters against the curb where it lands, spinning once before settling in a puddle of dirty water. A cat at the corner shrieks, its fur bristling, and runs into the trashcan with a loud bang that echoes through the empty parking lot.

"It's probably your mood." Mira, another member of my gang observes, her voice carrying that knowing tone that makes me want to punch something

"Yeah, Skylar." Grayson agrees, putting his board to a stop beside me. "You look like a whole thunderstorm, like you're about to blow lightning out your ears or something."

I don't say a word but bite my lower lip, hard enough that I feel the sting of it, glaring at the rest of the crew trying their boards on a platform while Jerry films for YouTube. They're laughing, carefree, not a care in the world, while I'm over here choking on my own frustration, swallowing it down like it's poison.

"My dad's bringing his long distance girlfriend home today." I finally say.

"Yeah, you've said that like a hundred times." Dante grunts, rolling his shoulders back, and Mira shoves him hard enough to make him stumble, her eyes shooting daggers at him, telling him to shut his mouth before he makes things worse.

"It's just annoying, okay?" I snap, "Like yay! Xenos Pack is going to have a Luna from Tinder."

"Has a nice ring to it." Grayson chuckles, that infuriating smile playing on his lips. "We already have a ferocious skater next line, wouldn't be that much of a deal."

My head flips to his so fast my neck cracks, the joint popping loudly in the quiet air. "Your point?"

"Just let your dad have his thing." He shrugs,"What's the worst that could happen? She could be cool, you know. She could be exactly what he needs."

I scoff, "He wouldn't even let me have my 'thing'. He's spent my whole life telling me what I can't do, who I can't be, what I can't wear, who I can't hang out with. She's probably going to end up being a troll and he'd send her off, it'd be treacherous if he married her. Like, genuinely catastrophic. The kind of disaster you see coming from a mile away but can't do anything to stop."

Mira rests her hand on my shoulder, her fingers squeezing gently, her touch warm and grounding through the thin fabric of my tank top. "Just calm down, Skylar. They're just dating, don't rush it and assume the worst. You don't even know her yet. Give it a chance, at least."

"You're right." I exhale slowly, forcing my shoulders to drop, "And even he does propose." I place my feet on my board again, taking off my scrunchie and letting my hair fall loose around my face, the wind catching it immediately, whipping it around my shoulders. "I'd crash the shitty wedding before it ever happens."

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